


migraine

by Anonymous



Series: bad things happen bingo [1]
Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Background Case, Graphic Description of Corpses, Headaches & Migraines, M/M, Pre-Slash, dead bodies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:01:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22708909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: written for bad things happen bingoO2: Headache/Migrainemalcolm shows up at a crime scene with a migraine; jt helps him out
Relationships: Malcolm Bright & JT Tarmel, Malcolm Bright/JT Tarmel
Series: bad things happen bingo [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1633324
Comments: 4
Kudos: 109
Collections: Anonymous





	migraine

JT watched as Malcolm squinted at the body. He frowned when Malcolm flailed and nearly lost his balance when trying to squat down beside it. The vic was a man in his late twenties, early thirties. Skinny. Dark hair. He was wearing a thick leather collar and nothing more. He'd been dumped in an abandoned warehouse. 

"The victim has been hobbled," Malcolm said, gesturing to his clearly broken ankles. "Hobbling is a practice typically reserved for horses, but is sometimes used as a form of torture for people by limiting physical mobility through trauma - like we see here, by breaking the ankles or the bones in the feet - or by binding. The movie  _ Misery _ with Cathy Bates has a really good example if anyone remembers that." He paused for a breath, which was a little unusual considering Malcolm almost never had to stop when he was on a role. He looked a little green, though, and JT was willing to bet it wasn't the crime scene or the vic. It was pretty gruesome, sure, but they'd all seen worse. 

"His wrists were given the same treatment," Edrissa offered. "He wouldn't have been able to walk or really pick up anything. His hands are pretty mangled." 

"Clear signs of rape," Dani added, using her pen to point to the lurid bruising around the man's pale hips and thighs. 

"I'll check for fluids," Edrissa said quietly. Dani nodded to her. 

JT stood with his arms crossed over his chest. "This guy was clearly taken care of, despite the trauma," he said. Dani gave him a sharp look, almost disapproving, and Malcolm looked curious. JT shrugged. "Clean-shaven face. No stubble. Skinny, but not starving. Clean. Hair's brushed. Fucked up wrists and hands means he couldn't take care of himself. Someone else did that for him.

"You're right," Malcolm said quietly, staring at the body again. "And this…" He traced a hand over the victim's ankle. "This speaks of experience. This isn't an amateur's work. I'm willing to bet there are other victims. Live ones." That thought made something twist uncomfortably in JT's gut, but he kept his mouth shut. 

Malcolm stood slowly, swaying badly. He closed his eyes immediately, pressing the back of one hand to his mouth. Dani went over to him and pressed a hand to his shoulder. He flinched, badly, and he grimaced. 

"Sorry," he said. 

"You don't look so great," Dani said honestly. 

"I'm fine," Malcolm insisted. "Just a headache."

JT frowned. It was dim in the warehouse. Edrissa had set up a spotlight for the body. CSU was still photographing the area, and they had to have flash. Yet Malcolm was squinting like even what little bit of light there was was too much for him to handle. He stepped away from Dani and nearly tripped over a CSU tech. He mumbled an apology and stumbled over toward the door. Dani gave JT a  _ look _ , and JT nodded, heading off after Malcolm. 

He hadn't got far. He was stopped by the wall, one hand bracing himself against it, the other cupped over his mouth. He was definitely pale and green and sweating now. Both eyes were squeezed shut. 

JT kept his voice as quiet as he could. "If you're gonna puke, at least don't do it at the crime scene. You know how much paperwork that is." Malcolm twitched a little like he wanted to smile. "Keep your eyes shut. I'll lead you outside." Malcolm nodded the slightest amount, and JT took his arm. He wrapped his arm around Malcolm's waist and held him close to his side, narrating each step in a soft murmur. 

They stopped at the door, and JT warned Malcolm that it was about to get a lot brighter. Malcolm reached into his jacket and pulled out a pair of sunglasses. JT pried them from his fingers and settled them on Malcolm's face before guiding him outside. 

Nearly as soon as they were around the corner, Malcolm shoved JT away and puked up a thin stream of yellow bile. JT grimaced, not because Malcolm had vomited, but because he didn't have anything in his stomach. He had to fix that. 

"You good?" he asked.

"Probably won't puke again, if that's what you mean," Malcolm offered. He straightened and pulled a napkin from his pocket to wipe his mouth. Then he pulled out a tiny bottle of mouthwash, and JT wasn't even surprised. "I'm fine now."

"You're really not," JT said, shaking his head. "Migraine, right? How long has it been going on?"

Malcolm's lips pressed into a thin line. "About four hours."

"Have you taken anything?" 

"Nothing helps."

"Okay," JT said, nodding. "Come on. You need water and crackers and Tylenol at the least. Caffeine." He grabbed Malcolm's arm and walked with him - slowly - to the squad car he and Dani had driven to the scene. 

"How do you know about all this?" Malcolm asked. It didn't sound insulting, only curious. 

"I've had migraines since I was a teenager," JT said. "Found a good neurologist when I joined up, got the right sort of meds that prevent them, now. But I never forgot the way they feel or what to do to help make them better. So let's go. No arguing." 

Malcolm didn't argue, and that was enough indication of how bad he felt. JT sent Dani a text to catch a ride back with someone else and he headed back to the 1-6 with Malcolm in the passenger's seat, sunglasses on and eyes closed. He kept the car cool and as quiet as he could. 

Back at the precinct, he led Malcolm to Gil's office, the only office with a couch. Gil was out, but he didn't care when they wanted to borrow his office for some quiet, and Malcolm needed it, so JT dropped the blinds and settled Malcolm on the couch, left the light off, and shut the door. 

He went to the small kitchen where everyone stored their lunches and where there were usually a few universal things like ketchup and sugar and forks and he grabbed a few packs of saltine crackers. Malcolm had made a comment once about how most foods made him sick, but he hoped these would be okay - or that he would let JT know if these weren't good for him. He bought a can of Coke from the vending machine and grabbed two ice-cold bottles of water and finished off his haul with a bottle of Excedrin and an ice pack. 

Malcolm was stretched out on the small couch, one arm over his eyes and his long legs draped over the end. He didn't stir when JT came into the room. JT sat everything on Gil's desk. 

"Can you sit up?" he asked, voice pitched low. 

"Yeah," Malcolm muttered. JT stepped closer and put his hand under Malcolm's shoulder to help him ease upright. He immediately put a bottle of water into Malcolm's hand. 

"Take small sips of that. Can you eat saltines?" 

"Sort of," Malcolm hedged. "They, um. Sometimes make me sick." 

"Are there any crackers you can eat?" JT asked, frowning. This was suddenly more complicated than he thought. "Is this a gluten thing?"

Malcolm nodded. "No gluten, no nuts, no soy." 

"Jesus, man," JT swore. "What  _ can _ you eat?"

"Plain meat and vegetables," Malcolm said with a thin smile. "But not ground beef because that makes me sick, too, and I don't eat pork." 

JT pinched the bridge of his nose. "You have to eat something. Something dry, like crackers, will help. Is there anything you can think of that won't make you sick?" 

"Rice?" Malcolm said, like it was a question. "Brown rice crackers are good, if you can find them." 

"Okay," JT said, nodding and taking out his phone. He sent Dani a text asking her if she minded trying to find Malcolm some specific food. "Try to drink more of that. You can't have any meds until you eat. Just lie down." 

Malcolm took a few more sips of water before setting the bottle on the floor and carefully lying back down on the couch. JT activated the icepack and pressed it to Malcolm's forehead. He seemed to melt at that, all the tension leaving his body.

"That helps a lot," he murmured. "Thank you."

"No problem," JT said quietly. "Just, you know, feel better so you can help us solve this weird-ass crime."

They sat in silence for a long time, JT perched on the arm of the couch, holding the ice pack to Malcolm's head for him, Malcolm half-dead on the couch. JT didn't know where Dani or Gil were, but he assumed they'd be along soon enough to fill them in on any details they were missing. 

"He didn't want to kill him," Malcolm murmured, almost like he was talking in his sleep. "He died from something else. The others will still be alive."

"We'll put out a press release or something," JT said with a nod. He saw Malcolm smile just a little, and he didn't resist running his fingers through Malcolm's hair gently, tenderly. Malcolm seemed to relax even more at that touch, so JT kept it up. Soon, Malcolm was well and truly asleep, and JT smiled, just a little.

It didn't last long, of course, but JT was still proud he'd been able to get Malcolm to nap for about an hour. That was a pretty good time, even if he did say so himself. But then Dani was there, tapping softly on the door, and Malcolm was awake again, even if he didn't open his eyes. 


End file.
